Coming Home
by blowflylaura
Summary: Rachel presumes she's about to catch a burglar but she's in for a little surprise.


_A/N - It's not an ideal fit for the prompt but I wanted to get something up for Faberry week. I struggled with these prompts so I've only managed to write a story for Caught and Possessive._

**Coming Home:**

It's safe to say that today has not been a good day.

When she read the letter informing her she had been accepted to NYADA even after choking during her audition and when she first met confessed her feelings to Quinn Fabray only to have them reciprocated, those were good days.

Today has been the complete opposite of a good day.

It's been one of those days when everything which can go wrong, does go wrong. The illustrious continuous bad luck has many names, Murphy's Law, Sod's Law, Karma or just good-old fashioned plain dumb bad lucky.

Whatever name you choose to use, Rachel definitely suffered a terrible day today.

The second she enters the warmth and shelter of her apartment building, she rids herself of her soaked jacket. This morning she had been running later than normal after failing to locate her car keys and proceeding to miss the bus. Since every taxi cab which passed her refused to stop, no matter how much she shouted, she was left with no alternative but to walk to work. Naturally, it started raining the second she stepped outside and it hasn't stopped raining all day. Rachel's always been a firm believer that everything seems worse when it's raining. Adding to this, she had to work late which means she's returning home at nearly ten o'clock in the evening rather than the usual six o'clock.

She curses herself for not investing in a safe place for her keys. Quinn always told her she needed to keep them in a bowl somewhere, either by the door or in the kitchen, that way she'd always remember where she left them. Rachel fervently refuted the suggestion by arguing if somebody managed to break into their home, they would be greeted with the keys to two cars, practically waiting for them.

It would be like winning the lottery for them.

If she struggled to find her keys, so would a burglar.

That was her reasoning anyway, however as she hears water droplets hit the floor from her clothes and hair, she's angry at herself for not heeding Quinn's advice. Quinn would love to hear her admit that. She always loves to be right

Striding towards the elevator, she presses the button before steeping inside once the doors open. She hits the button for the eighth floor before pressing it repeatedly when she hears somebody asking her to hold the door.

First things first, she isn't a cruel person and normally, she would willingly hold the door open for somebody. It's a simple gesture that anybody can do and she actively seeks to be nice and polite at all times but today, she is not in the mood to tolerate her next door neighbour's lecherous behaviour.

It's off-putting on her best day.

"Anybody would think you didn't hear me," Alex says as he slams his hand against the door, preventing them from closing. He slips into the elevator and Rachel tries to stop herself from rolling her eyes but she does it instinctively around him.

He moved in about six months ago and constantly flirts with her. His flirtation flips between firing sexual innuendos her way and leering at her. At first, she humoured him because growing up with Noah Puckerman as a friend had caused her to grow accustomed to that sort of outlandish male behaviour. If she's being entirely honest, she actually found it flattering. Other than Quinn, she hasn't really been found desirable by other people so his attention did provide her with a certain level of excitement and confidence. She would date him, even if she was straight, but captivating somebody's interest is always satisfying to a certain extent.

Eventually his relentless flirting grew tiresome and his sexual innuendos moved from slightly funny to downright degrading and she lost any sensation of being flattered.

Most times he speaks to her, she actually feels a little disgusted.

"I apologise, I guess I must be going deaf in my old age."

"I wouldn't classify 24 as old age," Alex replies with a toothy smile.

Rachel exhales heavily. "You know, I've not exactly had the best day so I would really appreciate it if we could make this short elevator journey in silence."

"Maybe I could come round tonight and cheer you up," he suggests with a flirtatious wink. Rachel rolls her eyes once again as he ignores her request. "Do you know what the cure for a bad day is?"

"I don't really care but I'm sure you're going to tell me regardless," Rachel mumbles under her breath.

"The answer is a bottle of wine and my company. Trust me, it's just what you need, I am capable of cheering anybody up."

"I'll pass on that offer if you don't mind."

She taps her foot impatiently; this elevator ride seems to be taking longer than normal. The luck she's having today, she wouldn't be surprised if it broke down and she had to suffer Alex's company for another couple of hours.

"I'm sure you must miss having somebody in the apartment with you," he says quietly. "It must be weird not having Quinn there when you come home from work."

Her eyes flutter shut subconsciously at the mention of Quinn's name before she breathes out. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. It may surprise you to hear but I find my own company rather interesting."

He runs his fingers through his hair as the elevator stops on the sixth floor, allowing an elderly gentleman to enter. Alex uses the opportunity to shuffle closer to Rachel. "For what it's worth, I am sorry about what happened between the two of you, you were a cute couple."

The corner of her mouth curls up ever so slightly because that actually sounded sincere. She didn't know that was an emotion he was capable of demonstrating.

"Thank you Alex."

"So how about it? A nice bottle of wine, maybe a bite to eat, who knows where that will lead," he tells her. "I have to say, I've always wondered what your bedroom looks like."

She scoffs lowly because his sincerity lasted only a matter of seconds. Finally the elevator dings for her floor and the doors open. Rachel breathes a sigh of relief before brushing past the elderly gentleman and stepping out of the elevator.

Once she reaches her apartment door, she rummages in her bag for her keys before inserting them into the lock. Feeling somebody behind her, she turns to find Alex hovering there rather than entering his own apartment. "Can I help you?"

"You never gave me an answer to my question so I'm going to take your silence as a yes."

Rachel unlocks her front door and pauses. "The first time you offered, I said I was going to pass. In case you still don't understand, that means no. I intend to spend my night having a long, hot soak with a good book."

He nods slowly. "That sounds like a much better alternative to food and wine."

"I know," she replies as she opens the door before stepping inside. "That's why I've chosen it." She closes the door quickly behind her in case Alex decided to try and come in. The minute it's closed, she rests her back against it and sighs heavily.

One day she'll be able to walk past him without having to repeat the same conversation over and over again.

No matter how many times she tells him, he never understands that she's not interested.

She closes her eyes and exhales before pushing herself off the door and walking to the kitchen. In Alex's defence, she could actually go for some wine right about now and a bite to eat come to think of it. She glances at the takeaway menus scattered across the counter before picking one from the pizza place down the street. She'll order some food later if she can doesn't fall asleep.

She hasn't really been cooking recently; she hasn't found the energy to do it. Most nights, she collapses in bed after work and on the nights she actually finds time to eat, she orders a takeaway.

When Quinn lived here, she would come home from work and find dinner prepared and a bottle of wine open. Her natural ability to cook was just one of the many things Rachel loved about Quinn.

Shrugging off the past memories, she opens the fridge and removes a bottle of white wine before pouring herself a glass.

Normally she isn't one for alcohol but she finds that a glass a night helps her sleep. She's not used to living alone and to be honest, she doesn't enjoy it. She finds herself jumping at every little noise through fear that there is an intruder in her house. When Quinn lived with her and they heard a noise, Quinn would always tell her not to worry; it was the wind or their neighbours.

Without Quinn here to calm her down, her mind often races to obscene possibilities. It's crossed her mind on more than one occasion that she could possibly be murdered in her sleep by an intruder. She sips her glass of wine before carrying it through her bedroom towards the bathroom, grabbing her bathrobe in the process. She sets her glass down on the sink before beginning to run a bath, emptying her remaining bubble bath into it.

She's been looking forward to having a bath since she first left for work. She's always found baths relaxing and a time when she can just forget about her problems. Quinn would always wonder what she did in the bath for so long but the answer was simple. She'd just lie there and let everything else slip away.

She sheds her clothing before hanging her bathrobe on the back of the bathroom door. Climbing into the bath, she revels as the hot water practically stings her skin but she neglects to add any more cold water.

Leaning over the edge of the bathtub, she fishes out her iPod from her jean pocket and flips through the songs. Like usual, she chooses a Barbra classic and inserts her iPod into the docking station. Soon, 'Don't Rain on my Parade' floats through the bathroom and she turns off the faucet before closing her eyes and sinking a little further down in the bath.

* * *

Her eyes flutter open suddenly and it takes her a while to realise her iPod has stopped playing music and the water in the bath is cold. She rubs her eyes lightly, she must have fallen asleep. She restarts her iPod but switches the music off almost immediately. It's probably her paranoia but she could have sworn she'd just heard the front door open and close. Her mind goes into overdrive as she questions herself. Did she really hear it? Did she remember to lock the door properly? Did she make a terrible mistake and leave it open?"

She knows the answer to all those questions but she still finds herself doubting her answers.

Shaking her head at her suspicion, she goes to switch her music back on when she hears the unmistakable creak of one of her floorboards. She and Quinn first discovered the creaky floorboard the day they moved in and from them on, they tried to avoid if it possible because the sound echoes through the apartment.

That definitely wasn't the wind or the neighbours.

Somebody is in her apartment.

Rachel takes a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. There is an intruder in her house. Somebody has entered her house without an invitation. Fear flows through her entire body as she contemplates every possible situation which may now arise. This intruder may just take a few valuable items and then leave. Or worse, this intruder may not be satisfied with just a few valuable items, maybe they'd prefer to leave their mark and destroy her apartment. She shudders at the thought that this intruder could possibly want to lay their hands on her.

"You're just being paranoid," she mutters to herself as quietly as she can manage.

She stays silent as she listens to somebody walk around her apartment. It's only a matter of time before they reach the bedroom and the bathroom. It's only then that she actually grasps the enormity of what's happening right now.

There is an intruder in her home and she's naked in the bathtub.

She glances at the door, it's not locked. She doesn't bother locking it when it's only her in the apartment. Funnily enough, when using the bathroom, she didn't ever expect to be interrupted by a possible burglar.

Making as little noise as possible, she climbs out of the bath and reaches for her robe before shrugging it on. Her fingers come to rest on the key in the lock and she locks the door slowly, grimacing when it makes a noise. Pressing her ear against the door, she listens intently for movement. It only takes a couple of seconds before she hears the unmistakable sound of somebody outside the door.

Rachel holds her breath as she watches the door handle go up and down. She daren't make a noise, she just prays the person will give up and leave. She really wishes she'd taken Alex up on his offer of a bottle of wine and a bite to eat. At least then she wouldn't be alone.

The door handle is tried once more and Rachel becomes more and more scared. Tears start to well in her eyes as she allows the fear to get the better of her. She scans the bathroom for a makeshift weapon because if this burglar is going to enter the bathroom, she wants to ready.

"Why is this door locked?"

The tears start to fall down her cheeks at the familiar voice and the sentence causes relief to shoot through her body. She releases the breath she was holding before chuckling lightly. The person she feared is the one person in the world she doesn't need to. Rachel unlocks the door before opening it. The relief she had momentarily felt is replaced by anger and annoyance.

Walking into her bedroom, she can just about make out the 'intruder' searching for the light switch. She shakes her head before reaching to her right and flipping the light switch.

"Who turned the lights on?"

"Do you want to explain what you're doing here?"

Quinn spins around too quickly and loses her balance, falling to the floor with a thud. She looks up at Rachel with a toothy smile. "Have you grown?"

"No, you've shrunk."

"Have I? That's a shame."

Rachel sighs heavily before helping her ex-girlfriend stand up. She glances at her alarm clock to see that it's nearly 11 o'clock. Quinn pokes the other woman's nose. "You're pretty."

"You are incredibly inebriated."

"But in the morning I'll be sober and you'll still be pretty."

Quinn starts attempting to remove her shoes but after having great difficulty, glances up at Rachel pleadingly. Rachel kneels down and removes the woman's shoes, placing them neatly at the foot of the bed.

Standing up, she runs her fingers through her hair. "You never answered my question, what are you doing here?"

"I live here, where else would I be?"

"Oh goodness, how much have you had to drink?" Quinn sits down on the bed but Rachel quickly grabs her hands and pulls her back into a standing position. "You can't sit down Quinn, you don't live here anymore. You moved out. It's time for you to go back to Santana's."

Quinn sends a drunken smile in Rachel's direction. "I love you."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You know it would be a lot easier to have this discussion if you weren't currently swaying."

Quinn leans forward in an attempt to kiss Rachel but the other woman steps back. Hurt spreads across Quinn's features. "What are you doing?"

"We're not a couple anymore Quinn."

"We're not?"

"It is actually like talking to a brick wall," Rachel mutters. "I'll ask you one more time, how much have you had to drink?"

Quinn ducks her head, almost embarrassed. "I don't remember…Santana."

"You needn't say any more. If Santana was involved then that explains everything." Quinn tries to sit back down on the bed but Rachel stops her instantly. "Oh no you don't. Look I'm going to call Santana and give her a piece of my mind and then you and I are taking a cab to her apartment."

"I don't want you to go."

Rachel sighs heavily as Quinn's hands come to rest on her waist. Quinn has always been a rather touchy-feely drunk and the more she tries to touch Rachel, the harder it is to resist her. It's always been like that with them, Rachel can only resist her for a certain amount of time.

Seeing her here has merely forced her to admit what she hadn't wanted to.

She's missed Quinn so much.

Kurt asked her why they broke up and she's sure he was expecting an answer like 'one of us cheated' or something interesting like that. It wasn't as juicy as that, they simply grew apart. They both started working more and spent less time at home. It ended up being only one person in the apartment at any one time due to work schedules. Their conversations became fewer and farther between and in the end; they both decided their relationship wasn't working.

This time when Quinn attempts to sit down, Rachel doesn't bother stopping her. "Okay, fine. You just stay here, I'm going to make you a cup of coffee and hopefully sober you up."

She runs her fingers through her hair before walking to the kitchen. Opening one of the cupboards she pulls out what used to be Quinn's favourite mug. She didn't take it with her when she moved out, or rather, she packed it intending to take it but Rachel later stole it from the box without Quinn noticing.

She just wanted something to remember Quinn by.

She doesn't have time to pour a mug of coffee before Quinn starts walking towards her. Or rather stumble towards her.

"I thought I told you to stay where you were." Quinn stumbles even more before falling flat on her face on the couch. Rachel releases a momentary gasp and runs towards her. "Are you okay?"

Quinn doesn't answer but she manages to give Rachel a thumbs up.

"You are extraordinarily tiresome when you're intoxicated."

Quinn rolls over so she's facing Rachel. "I'm cute."

In spite of herself, the corner of Rachel's mouth curls up. "I suppose you are."

Quinn sends her another drunken smile before patting the side of the couch next to her. Rachel shakes her head fervently but it only makes Quinn pat the couch harder. She doesn't know why she even bothers arguing with Quinn when she has alcohol coursing through her system, she never wins. Rachel sighs before lying down beside Quinn.

"I was making you some coffee."

"I don't want coffee, I want you."

Rachel closes her eyes as she feels Quinn's lips press against her neck. "We can't do this."

Quinn pouts. "Why not?"

"We're not together, I know it's hard for you to grasp that right now since you don't really seem to be listening to me but –"

"I have a secret. Do you want to know what it is?" Quinn searches for the other woman's hand before curling her fingers around Rachel's.

"Sure."

"Come closer," Quinn whispers. Rachel rolls her eyes but shuffles impossible closer to Quinn. "Closer."

"I can't exactly get any closer without physically being on top of you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"What's your secret?" Rachel asks, genuinely intrigued at what secret Quinn might create. Quinn gestures with her finger for Rachel to lean in. When she's a whisper away from Quinn's face, Quinn leans forward and steals a kiss. She proceeds to giggle when she realises she managed to achieve her objective.

"You do realise that when you drink beyond the normal limit, you start acting like a child," Rachel tells her but she doesn't expect an answer. "Stealing a kiss by enticing me with the promise of a secret, that's a childish trick."

"I'm sorry." Quinn bobs her head slowly. "I can tell you my secret if you want."

Rachel laughs out loud because she knows there is no secret; it's merely a ploy for Quinn to repeat her earlier actions. Nevertheless she finds herself leaning in. Sure enough Quinn kisses her once more.

"I miss you."

"Quinn, don't."

Quinn places a kiss at the corner of Rachel's mouth. "I miss you."

Rachel sniffs lightly. "I miss you too."

A ferocious banging at her front door disturbs their little moment and Rachel attempts to disentangle herself from Quinn but her ex puts up a fight.

"Don't go." Her face falls serious. "It might be an intruder."

"I think you've already covered that base for tonight Quinn. Who knows, it might be another one of my ex-girlfriends mistakenly thinking my home is their home."

Rachel manages to stand up before walking towards the door and looking through the spy hole. She opens the door with a furrowed brow. "Santana, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Santana brushes past her. "I was looking for her," she explains, pointing to Quinn who is attempting to hide her face in the couch cushions. "Don't try and hide from me. Seriously, are you that much of a child?" Santana chastises. "What are you doing here?"

"Why do people keep asking me that?" Quinn whispers, more to herself than anybody else.

"Q, you said you were going to go home."

"I am home," Quinn defends.

Santana turns to face Rachel with a quizzical look on her face. "Don't look at me like that," Rachel scolds. "I've been trying to explain to her that this is no longer where she lives but you've seen her, heck you put her in that state, she's hardly capable of listening to reason."

"Whoa, back up Berry. I did not get her in that state. When I left her, she was perfectly okay."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "Come again?"

"She's been camped out in my living room for the past two weeks, watching re-runs of some rubbish television show and stuffing herself silly with junk food. Brittany wanted to have some friends around tonight so I agreed to take Quinn out for a couple of drinks. Try and snap her out of the stupor she's been in since you two broke up. We had a few drinks each and then I said we should head back. Quinn wanted to stay for one more drink but she said she'd follow me on. When she didn't come back, I rang the bar but the bartender told me she'd left a while ago. If she wasn't drinking herself stupid and she wasn't on my couch, there's only one place she'd come. To you."

"Why did you leave her? You should have had the sense to realise that one more drink wasn't going to mean one more drink."

"I'm not a babysitter," Santana comments. "If you want somebody to blame about the state of her, try looking in a mirror. She has been a mess since you broke up."

"Do you think I wanted to break up?" Rachel shouts, suddenly forgetting that Quinn is still in the room and can hear everything they're saying. "I wish things had worked out between us but sometimes relationships don't work."

"Come off it, you and Quinn are destined to end up together. Anybody can see that, you didn't try hard enough."

"How dare you!" Rachel places her hands on her hips and scowls.

Santana tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. "Look, I'm sorry. It's late and I'm tired and I've just come to collect the booze hound over there. Forget I said anything."

"Did you just apologise to me?"

"Momentary lapse in judgement, don't get used to it." Santana walks over to Quinn. "Let's go Q-ball."

"No, I'm staying here."

"I am not in the mood for this, get up."

When Quinn pushes herself further into the couch, Santana growls through frustration and looks at Rachel for some help. Rachel walks over to them and kneels down by Quinn. She can't help but smile when she sees the woman drunkenly grinning. If there's one thing that you can always count on when Quinn's drunk, it's that she'll wind up Santana to no end. Rachel stands back up and turns to face her friend. "I think we can both agree she's not going to willingly go anywhere."

"I don't need her to be willing," Santana warns.

"Really?" Rachel comments before sighing. "She can stay here."

"Are you sure?"

Rachel bobs her head. "It's not like she's going to be much of a problem, she's probably going to pass out any minute now," she explains, glancing at Quinn whose eyes are fluttering shut as she speaks.

Santana puffs out a breath. "I don't envy you in the morning."

"The hangover will be her punishment. Maybe she'll think twice before she decides to spend a night wallowing in the comfort of alcohol."

Santana releases a short laugh. "I wasn't talking about Quinn." She starts walking towards the front door and Rachel follows her slowly.

"I don't understand. Why won't you envy me in the morning?"

Santana opens the door before sending a sly smile in her friend's direction. "Quinn's still in love with you and you're still in love with her. It may be simple now because she's drunk but when she's sober, it's going to be an awkward morning for the pair of you." She's walking away when she leaves her final remark. "I give it two hours before you're back in bed with her."

Rachel shakes her head and closes the door behind Santana before walking back to Quinn. "Right, where were we?"

"We were cuddling."

Rachel chuckles lightly. "Actually, I think I was making you a cup of coffee."

"I still don't want coffee," she mumbles into the couch.

"Fine, I'll leave it. I'll go and make up the spare bed for you."

She's just passing the couch when Quinn catches her hand. "Rachel?" She hums in response. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"You're most welcome."

Quinn presses her lips against Rachel's hand before releasing it and watching her ex-girlfriend disappear into the spare bedroom. She stands before staying still for several seconds to combat the sudden dizziness which hits her. She stumbles forward, grimacing when she bangs her knee against the corner of the coffee table. Walking towards what she's sure she remembers as the spare room, she smiles sleepily when she sees the bed. Collapsing on it, she buries her face into the pillow and sleep finds her instantly.

Rachel quickly grabs a couple of pillows from the cabinet and throws them onto the bed before unfolding a thick blanket and throwing it over the entire bed. It's not the best made up bed in the world but Quinn's too drunk to care. She turns around and returns to the living room. "Okay Quinn, the bed's ready for you."

She frowns when she notices that Quinn is absent from her position on the couch. She looks towards the front door in case Quinn left but she didn't hear the door open or close and after putting up a fight beforehand, it's unlikely she'd leave now. Rachel walks into her own bedroom and sighs when she sees Quinn resting on top of her bed, snoring softly.

"Quinn?"

Her only answer is another soft snore.

"Unbelievable."

Rachel grabs a pair of pyjamas before dropping her robe and dressing. Heading to the bathroom, she removes the plug from the bathtub and listens to the rhythmic sound of the water disappearing. Returning to her room, she pulls some of the bed covers up, just enough to slide inside. The minute she's in the bed, Quinn's hand flies over and rests on her stomach.

As her eyes close, she makes a mental note to inform Santana that she's losing her touch.

It certainly didn't take two hours for them to be in the same bed.


End file.
